The Games Begin
by CookieGobbler
Summary: The Cornucopia bloodbath told from the eyes of an anonymous tribute.


The Games Begin

Michael J.

60…59…58…

I stand on the cool pedestal, soaking up the environment spread out around me- the types of trees and plants, the occasional scampering animal, the glistening lake sheening with ice, and the light fluffy snow taken into consideration. The air feels crisp on my sullen face, sagging with so many years of malnourishment.

45…44…43…

I gaze at the other twenty three tributes, most poised to spring to the golden cornucopia looming a distance of fifty yards away. I spot the boy from District 11, a meager twelve year old with brown skin who has no chance of surviving this game. My eyes flit to the muscular boy from District 2. The contrast between the two boys intrigues me. Why does District 2 get even just a little bit more care from the Capitol than the outlying districts?

30…29…28…

I now survey the mouth of the cornucopia, foaming with boxes and crates of supplies. I spot my weapons of choice, a set of three shiny, chrome colored axes with long curved blades that are fit for throwing hanging on a weapons' rack a few feet inside the cornucopia. It's too far for the risk. But I'm known to take risks back in District 7, my home. My home- the place where I'm surrounded by tall oak trees and a set of three loving family members. As much as the Capitol wants me to believe it, this place is not my home. This place is a slaughter house.

20…19…18…

I weigh the odds of the risk in my head. I am a pretty quick sprinter, but only for short distances. I should be able to get to the middle of the cornucopia with no problem, but how would I run back to safety? I could hide in the cornucopia behind the several crates. Yes, that's what I'll do. I spot a few crates that are near the axes. I hope they hide me well.

10…9…8…

I shift my feet to where I can leap off of my pedestal and gain a quick stride. My eyes linger over the axes. They are my only chance.

3…2…1…

The gong rings out and I spring into action. I run faster than I ever have before. I become aware of the massive boy from District 1 lumbering towards me in the distance. I quickly dive to the ground as he attempts to pummel me. He misses me and falls hard to the ground with a loud crunch. I'm not sure if it came from the snow or his shoulder. I shake off the moment of terror and leap back to my feet.

My altercation with the stupid boy has slowed me down, and before I'm even halfway to the mouth of the cornucopia, people have already grabbed whatever they could get their hands on and spread out to attack. I frantically try to spot the axes, and when I finally see them hanging on the rack, I am relieved.

As I sprint harder for the axes, however, I see the girl from District 8 reach out for them. Just as my eyes widen in anger, a sleek blur rushes past my field of vision. The girl drops to the ground, a long, silver throwing knife protruding from her arched back. I keep running, hurdling over two dead bodies by the time I reach the axes. I grab them and feel the cool metal on my fingertips. I turn around and get ready to strike, only to find I am temporarily safe as no one has noticed me just yet.

I slip into the shadows of the crates right next to me and lie in wait. When I crouch down, I see that the opening of the crate is facing toward me. I open it quietly so as not to get noticed and take two bags of dried meat and a loaf of bed. These should hold me off for at least a day or two.

I slowly peer over the crates and see the most disturbing thing I hope I never see again. Dead bodies are strewn everywhere. Some with gaping gashes in their abdomens and necks, and one of the others doesn't even have a neck anymore. I shudder as I look away from the ruby red snow. Now is not the time to be queasy at the sight of gore, but I can't help it.

Just as my stomach does a flip, a jet black arrow finds its mark: the crates I'm hiding behind. My eyes widen in terror as I follow the trajectory of the arrow and see a silent, bow-wielding assassin from District 5 up in a tree on the edge of the clearing we started in. I lean my head in just as another arrow slices its way into the snow behind me. I look around for the safest route away from here, and find a path behind the cornucopia where no one is at. Only a dead body is huddled against a rock in my way. I feint a move toward the assassin, making him shoot another arrow. It's better if he has one less arrow to work with.

I sprint quickly for the safety of the trees, running back and forth so I'm harder to hit. Arrows stop flying toward me, so I assume I'm safe for now. I begin to run straight for the trees.

As I pass the rock, however, the dead body suddenly comes to life and throws a knife straight at me. I dodge quickly and throw an axe at the form, sinking it into its chest. I run and retrieve the axe and realize I just killed my district partner, a boy with black hair named Arcadia. What will my district think of me now that I killed one of my own? I push aside the thought and keep running. Now is not the time to think of emotions. Emotions will just hold me back. I must be ruthless. I must survive, even if it means killing everyone in this god forsaken arena.

I keep running, unsure if I'm running from the threat or my past self…

Based upon _The Hunger Games _by Suzanne Collins


End file.
